In early 1981, just months into the new Reagan Administration, I published a guest column in the Daily Orange, the Syracuse University student paper. Here is a condensed and updated version of JC and the Plains Blues Band.

It was cold and rainy when I slipped into the Eldorado Cafe. The waitress asked if I was staying for the stage show. A small platform sat in one corner. Shortly after I finished the blue plate special, the band came out.

"Hi, I'm Jimmy," said the lead singer, flashing a toothy grin and pressing the microphone stand close to his frayed cardigan. "And we are the Plains Blues Band. Jody on tenor sax. Bad Bert on drums, and Ham on spoons and guitar."

The band struck up a blues riff and Jimmy went straight to work, his blue eyes staring at the audience as he crooned.

"I told you I loved you baby, but you took me far too seriously. Yes, I told you I loved you baby, but you dumped me for expediency. Now when things get bad baby, don't look to me for sympathy."

The crowd swayed and clapped, sometimes joining in on the chorus as he sang blues standards like Stand by Me, Hoochie Coochie Man, The Sky is Crying, and Nobody Knows You When You're Down and Out. He did an original number Won't Someone Pass the SALT?

Then, just as quickly as he took to the stage, JC was gone. I heard some rumors he was busy building homes, eradicating guinea worms, and supervising elections. I suppose that's good, but that night of imagined music sticks with me. God rest good servant, Jimmy Carter.